"He works for Monsieur Gohon," replied a chorus of shrill voices. At this moment the great doors were flung open, and the people poured into the market. It all looked grey, cool, business-like: sacks heaped about, great measures, a few men in blue blouses, and a small knot of women, in white frilled caps, and little crossed shawls, standing together in the midst. M. Deshoulieres looked on with a little quiet amusement, wondering how the women would conduct themselves. A commotion in the corn-market was almost unprecedented. Just then he saw a figure standing behind two others in the sunlit doorway. Something in form or attitude was so unlike the rest, that he looked again and recognised Therese. She had already noticed him, so that it did not surprise her when he came back to her and began, in his quick abrupt manner,-- "You here, mademoiselle?" She drew back a little, seeing that he was displeased, and lifted her eyes to his face with the expression that always unconsciously touched him. It was quite true that a few months ago she would have shrunk from finding herself among people alone, but since her stay at the Roulleaus, madame had impressed upon her that she was no longer in a position to hold such ideas; she made her useful in this as in every other respect, and Therese had been a little proud of overcoming the dislike which all French education and habits implant so strongly that it becomes second nature. She had been passing through the Place, and had paused for a moment at the entrance to the market, to look at the throng within. There the sunlight had betrayed her to M. Deshoulieres. The idea of concealing herself from him, or from any one else, would never have entered her head, but now she wished heartily that he had not perceived her. When he went on to ask what had become of her attendant, poor Therese coloured crimson with vexation. "I have no _bonne_, monsieur," she answered as composedly as she could. "In my position I do not expect one." It was M. Deshoulieres' turn to colour. He walked up to fat Madame Lemaire, who was standing near, and brought her back with a kind of ceremonious formality. "There has been a mistake about mademoiselle's servant," he said, hurriedly; "will you do me the kindness to permit her to remain under your protection?" Then he went a little aside from them, and stood watching the proceedings.